


where two halves meet

by unsealie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Eskel Has Feelings (The Witcher), Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, the death does not happen in the fic, vague comfort? in the fact that eskel has had time to heal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:22:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsealie/pseuds/unsealie
Summary: Eskel had missed him this winter. It had been too long since he had seen his love last, and now it was spring. The flowers were blooming again, and he walked to the tree they always met under, ready to see Geralt again.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel & Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25
Collections: The Witcher Flash Fiction Challenge #017





	where two halves meet

**Author's Note:**

> before reading please take a look at the tags and warnings. if there are any tags i should add, please let me know in the comments. take care of yourself while reading!
> 
> this was written for the watcher flash fic challenge #17. title from two halves by sunflower thieves.

Eskel took his time getting to the place where they met every month. He walked without his armour and without his swords, taking this day to exist only as he was, not as he was made to be. That’s how Geralt always loved seeing him.

The flowers were in bloom now, and it all looked beautiful. Eskel knew it wouldn’t last long, the flowers never did. It was an odd spot for them to finally see each other after months apart, but he didn’t pay it any mind. It was what Geralt wanted, and who was he to deny him that?

Finally, Eskel saw the tree they were to meet under and he smiled when he saw Geralt there. He had changed over the winter. Everything seemed a bit dirtier, hollow and cold like it normally never was. Spring was going to change that, and he knew it. They’d get to see each other more often, and the warmer weather meant longer visits. 

“Hey,” Eskel said as he stepped through the hanging branches of the tree, finding himself enclosed in a bubble of greens and whites and pinks. He lowered himself to the ground, sitting with his back against the trunk of the tree. His bones creaked and ached, but he felt like a boy again, sitting with Geralt and hiding from the rest of the world. It was as if they were back at Kaer Morhen, tucked away into hiding spots the instructors could never find. Just them, as it was always meant to be. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he asked, not expecting an answer as he set out the loaf of sweet roll and apple juice he had brought with him. Geralt’s favourites. “Sometimes, I think I start missing you so much over the winters it actually hurts. I know we can still come out here, and I can still see you, but it’s never as nice when it’s so cold, and the trip feels so much longer when I’m trudging through the snow.” 

Geralt didn’t have time to get a word in as Eskel kept speaking, but he didn’t mind much. He never did have much to say nowadays, and Eskel knew that. “I haven’t been doing much recently. I started a new project, a sweater made from the nice yarn Lambert brought me last time he visited. You remember the one, yeah? I showed it to you, I know I did. But anyways, when he comes back, I’ll give him the sweater, and I know he’ll tear it, so I’ve kept some extra yarn for repairs.”

Eskel’s head fell back and he looked up at the flowers of the tree, blossoming over their heads. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. If he focused hard enough, he could feel Geralt’s warmth next to him.

“I’m waiting for him to come _home_ , now, for him to come here and _stay_. He’s been walking the Path for years, and I think he’s almost weary enough to settle down here, with us. Can’t believe Lambert is the last Wolf out there. Everyone always thought it would be me, but after what happened…” Eskel couldn’t bring himself to continue. He and Geralt both knew what had happened.

He couldn’t bring himself to travel anymore. 

“One day, he’ll come home. I’m sure you miss him as much as I do. It gets rather lonely, being home by myself. You’re here, but it’s not the same.” Eskel tore off a chunk of the bread and shoved it into his mouth if only to give himself something to do, turning his head away from Geralt to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, dragging a hand down his face, scratching at his scars. He didn’t come here to cry, but somehow he always did. Geralt never judged him for it. 

Here, sitting under the tree that grew over Geralt’s grave, Eskel felt a sense of safety he hadn’t experienced since the last day he spent in Geralt’s arms.

“Fuck, Ger. _I miss you_.” 

He didn’t get an answer and while he didn’t expect one, the silence made his sobs sound so much louder. 

The pain didn’t get easier like everyone told him it would. Eskel had learned to live with it, had made peace with the emptiness left in his chest after Geralt died. He had spent weeks in his bed after his lover passed, and the grief had been overwhelming. It still was, on the days when he remembered. On days like today, when the memory of Geralt was so close and yet so far.

He could see it now, how the pitchfork passed through so much skin and flesh. He could see the rivers of blood that drowned the entire town afterwards. He had never carried something as heavy as the weight of his love, his Geralt, dead in his arms.

Eskel took a deep breath and let it out. Breathe in, breathe out. Again, and again, and again.

“I love you, you know,” he said finally, looking over at the small pile of stones that sat next to him to mark Geralt’s grave, and at the weathered sheath of a sword. He came here to visit his lover, to give the hole inside of him a break from the pain. It was enough, to sit here with Geralt, even if just for a moment. “I’ve got to go back home now, but you know I don’t live far. I’ll come visit again soon, I swear it, Wolf.” He stood on unsteady legs and wiped away his tears, unable to look back at where his lover rested.

One day, maybe, he’d finally get to lay with Geralt again. But for now he was alive, and he knew Geralt would hate it if he only lived to die. 

The walk home was quiet. Eskel could feel the weight and warmth of a hand in his own, and even if it was only his imagination, it was calming. Sometimes he swore he could hear another set of footsteps walking alongside his own. 

He’d get home, and he’d make supper, and he’d call Lambert using the xenovox he’d taken from Geralt’s cold fucking body. And he’d go to bed, hoping to wake up to a day where maybe these memories weren’t so hard to hold.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments & kudos are appreciated.
> 
> find me on tumblr at [@lovelyeskel](https://lovelyeskel.tumblr.com) <3


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